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I’m researching the career of musician Cherry Wainer and the 1950s-1960s music scene.
In October 1958, a Daily Herald reporter caught up with Cherry as she emerged from a shop in Shaftesbury Avenue clutching five-guinea sweaters and three boxes of expensive cuff-links. “For my friends,” she said, scurrying towards her pink low-slung sports car before the approaching policemen noticed the “no parking” sign.
“On ‘Oh Boy!’ we are all friends and the musicians treat me as one of the boys.” Accelerating away, Cherry added, “That’s Cliff Richard - our new boy. He’s a nice kid, not a ruffian like lots of singers these days. He thinks about things. Willing to learn. He’ll get to the top and stay there.”
“I’ve got four record players and hundreds of records - Sinatra, Ella, Duke, rock and roll…Some people say rock’s no good. Some of it is. No good being a snob.”
“I played Peggy Lee’s Fever night after night before I sang it on ‘Oh Boy!’ The big thing with that song is the eyes. I kept still and put all the actions into my eyes.”
“I couldn’t stand the political set-up (at home) in South Africa. Here (in Britain), I work with people I like. Who cares what colour they are?”